


Spring Fevers

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [23]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Skype, The infamous chicken soup is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 20:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20699129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Camille has a cold and Richard actually bows to making the infamous chicken soup for her, during which time he also receives some helpful advice from Catherine via. Skype.Part of the Life Moves On series taking place a few weeks after The Argument.





	Spring Fevers

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently there's a cold going around my campus and someone who is not Camille (ie. me) may have caught it. Either that or my mind is just normally so foggy that I can barely remember that yellow is a real word. Believe it or not this story came about BEFORE I may have caught my own cold.

Of course, Catherine has put that dreadful chicken soup in the little recipe book she made him. It isn't remotely an exaggeration to state that it had outright made him sick. He supposed it was his English stomach that had caused him to become such quick enemies with it. On this side of the pond when you give a sick person chicken soup you give them a bland broth with a few noodles and some loose chicken in it. Catherine's version of chicken soup is full of spices, vegetable chunks and even some chicken that is still on the bone, and it outright offends his sensibilities. However, there happens to be at least one person in London who prefers the more "vibrant" version of chicken soup and unfortunately she is currently battling a spring cold, so after work Richard stops at the local market and spends a good deal of time trying to find the proper ingredients while a naggy old woman follows him around and provides her input on his choices. Apparently she doesn't find them appropriate and keeps insisting that no self-respecting English person would put them in chicken soup until he turns to her and viciously states that his wife is French Caribbean. Then, of course, she decides she doesn't like his yelling.

  
Naturally, by the time he returns to the flat with his groceries he is in an absolutely sour mood. He decides not to wake up Camille right away, not wanting to burden her with his mood, and instead immediately pulls out his laptop so he can listen to music while he cooks. Nothing too loud though, as unlike some people who believe in purposely blasting French music through the flat, he likes to be considerate when others are asleep. Actually, it's not fair to call out his wife like that. She usually only plays her music loud when she's actually trying to wake him up, and the last time was a little over a month ago on Valentines Day at which point he had woken up to a rather pleasant surprise from her.

  
Still, she needs her sleep right now. When he'd last seen her this morning, she'd looked so genuinely miserable that he'd almost regretted having to leave her, and she hadn't sounded much better when he'd called to check up on her during his lunch hour.

  
He's just managed to lay the ingredients out in front of him on the counter when the laptop buzzes with a notification of an incoming Skype call. A call from his mother-in-law who happens to be the last person he wants to see him making her chicken soup recipe. He could just reject the call, but then he's pretty sure Catherine will just call up Camille who will come downstairs angry and not remotely rested.

  
So instead he plasters on the fakest smile he can manage and clicks to accept the call. "Hello, Catherine."

  
"Hello, Richard. Oh, are you cooking dinner? What will you and Camille be having tonight?" The question sounds so innocent, but he knows that with her there is never a completely innocent question. He also knows he's only going to dig himself further into a hole by giving an honest answer.

  
"Camille will be having chicken soup because she has a cold. I will be eating last night's leftover spaghetti."

  
"You don't like chicken soup?" That question is especially loaded with the faux innocence. She probably already has figured out that he must be using her recipe.

  
"This particular recipe makes me sick." Normally he wouldn't outright admit that, but she is halfway around the world and he's still in a rather foul mood because of the nagging woman in the grocery store.

  
Still, that glare comes out; the one that looks even more terrifying on her than it does on her daughter. "You are being a very rude man."

  
He isn't sure why he's going to confess the truth to her now, but for some reason, he doesn't want her to be angry with him. Maybe because he's still half-convinced she can kill him even from this distance or at least weaponize Camille to do so. "No Catherine you don't understand. Your chicken soup literally made me ill. Every time I tried to eat it I became violently nauseous and had to crawl to the bathroom while half-delirious because I was ashamed of the thought of you finding me covered in my own fluids. I swear I would have become completely dehydrated if not for the fresh fruit that Fidel kept bringing me. I have a very low spice tolerance."

  
He expects Catherine to just become even angrier with him, and she is still frowning, but instead, she states, "You should have told me that sooner."

  
"Well half the time I wasn't even in control of enough of my senses to remember where I was, and the other half of the time I just thought it would be rather rude to admit that."

  
"Yes, but I didn't want to kill you. Well, not until you made those comments, which were still very rude even if you were quite ill."

  
"You were trying to get me to admit that I was in love with your daughter. I couldn't exactly be honest about that!" Richard is becoming flustered trying to defend himself.

  
At this Catherine bursts out laughing and Richard immediately realizes why. He's just acted like he was trying to protect some dirty little secret from his mother-in-law, who only has one daughter, whom he is now married to. Surely by now, Catherine has figured out that he is indeed in love with her daughter. He doesn't like looking silly though, so now he is the one who is scowling. Finally, Catherine composes herself. "I'm sorry Richard, but surely you can see the humor in what you just said."

  
"Well at the time I wasn't exactly aware that I was actually going to marry her one day. Half the time I still don't have the faintest idea why she actually agreed to it."

  
Catherine is making that face again, the one where he feels like she might be disappointed in him, but also might be feeling something entirely different. "She says that you're the first man who hasn't made her feel like she's had to change part of herself to be loved."

  
Richard doesn't expect that particular comment to hit him as hard as it does. Maybe he's so taken by it because he realizes that Camille also makes him feel the exact same way. Although maybe it's because he's always seen her as such a strong person on her own that he could never imagine her wanting to change for anyone, or needing to. She may be feisty, opinionated, tough as hell, far too stereotypically French and the owner of way too many bags and shoes, but he loves these traits of hers, even when they annoy him. Then again, perhaps he can see why some men might be intimidated by her intensity. Still, he'd never expect her to change herself.

  
He's not going to get deep in front of his mother-in-law though. "She shouldn't be expected to change. If two people can't love each other for exactly who they are, then they shouldn't be married to each other."

  
"She also told me the real story about your wedding day."

  
"Oh God." Richard can't imagine exactly what judgment he's about to have unleashed on him. The whole event still feels right considering the circumstances, but it certainly wasn't a classy ceremony and he assumes this is what Catherine is going to get on him about.

  
"You were her knight in shining armor that day."

  
Now he knows Catherine must be lying. "Camille didn't say that."

  
"No, she used the word hero, but she said you put all of your concern into making sure she was okay and that you were able to remain calm even when she felt like she was being hysterical and you made her feel special. You took care of her without belittling her needs."

  
"There's nothing heroic about doing the bare minimum for being a good husband," Richard snorts. He really can't see why Camille and Catherine have made such a big deal about it. He may not feel that he understands everything about love, but to him, it involves uplifting and caring for your partner when they need it. That was why he'd comforted Camille on their wedding day, and that's also why he's making soup for her right now even though he absolutely hates the recipe.

  
Suddenly, he hears soft footsteps behind him, as if the very thought of his partner has summoned her.

  
The moment he sees Camille standing in the doorway he suddenly forgets everything else. She is clad in sweatpants and one of his tee shirts and her short black hair is completely tousled. There are also obvious bags under her eyes and her skin looks a shade paler. Seeing her like this practically breaks his heart. "Camille." Her name catches in his throat and he immediately wishes he could do something more to protect her from her illness.

  
"I thought I heard voices."

  
"I'm sorry. I was talking to your mother, but I will try to be quieter." When he turns back to the laptop expecting Catherine to offer some greeting to her daughter, he finds that the call has already been disconnected. How utterly rude of the woman, but nonetheless Camille still needs her rest. As she steps forward to stand in his arms, he softly brushes her bangs aside and plants a kiss on her forehead. "Go back to bed."

  
"I think I would rather lay on the couch now."

  
"Why?"

  
"Because if I go back to bed you'll be too far away from me and I'll miss you."

  
Richard is about to make a comment about how he'll still be in the same flat even if she is upstairs, but then he suddenly remembers what Catherine had said about how Camille appreciated when he took care of her needs without belittling them. To him, it may seem ridiculous that she apparently needs to be in the very next room to keep from missing him while she's sick, but to Camille, it's clearly extremely important. "Ahh, well...right. Then I suppose you should go lay on the couch."

  
This seems to be the answer she was looking for and she pulls away from him and begins to walk away before pausing in the doorway to the kitchen and looking back at him again. "Richard?"

  
"Yes?"

  
"Come cuddle with me?" She looks so sad yet hopeful. He can hardly say no to that face, but he also can't very well continue to make chicken soup while sitting on the couch with her. In the end, he manages to remind himself that the soup is for her and making sure to take care of her nutritional needs is just as important as caring for her emotional ones.

  
"I have to finish cooking dinner first, but I promise I will cuddle with you after I am done. I love you, Camille."

  
"I love you too, but don't take too long." With that, she disappears into the other room and he finds his thoughts follow with her. Less than a year married and she already has turned him into a sentimental old fool. He's not sure if he wants to imagine how terribly mushy he'll become by the time they've been married for a few decades. Maybe sentimental isn't exactly the worst fate though.


End file.
